Lakota Life Part 1: Bright Star of the West
by Donna della Penna
Summary: We all know the story of Spirit, the brave mustang that won his freedom despite the odds. But what of the three Lakota horses he met in the village? In Part 1, we follow the chestnut mare.
1. Star's Intro

**Part 1: Bright Star that Sets in the West**

**Chapter 1–Star's Intro. [Rewrite**

The sun was low in the sky when I heard the leader of the humans speaking. They were all gathered around a small fire in the center of the village, eating and talking in that odd language of theirs. I, pretending to graze on grass, moved away from the other horses and closer to the humans that sheltered us in order to hear what was being said.

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My name is Bright Star of the West, or at least it is now. My coat is a coppery brown, and my rider, Swift Deer, paints decorative yellow circles on my shoulder and ties feathers in my mane. I live with a band of humans that call themselves "Lakotas." They have settled in a lush, hilled valley, with a river cutting through it, and plenty of deer and pheasants to eat. I've been here almost an entire year, and I have learned a lot about humans. I won't get into that, however. What I have learned and what I will later learn will soon become clear.

I was once a wild horse, living on the plains beyond the valley's walls. I thought I would never have to give up my freedom, nor did I consider the possibility of an everyday object–a river–changing my life and my perspective.

It was a little more than a year ago when my herd made its seasonal trek to the open plains from the forest. The snow had begun to melt and add to the rivers and streams of the land. My older sister, now named "Calm Waters," my niece, "Brooke," and I were following the lead mare when we came upon a wide river. Eager to eat spring grass, the herd charged through the water, as it was only below-the-knee deep. Brooke had not been elated as the others were, and did not follow. Calm Waters had tried to comfort and reassure her daughter that nothing bad would take place, but she dared not move. I'd politely waited for them, and watched as the herd ambled on.

What no one had noticed was the gradual darkening of the sky, and without warning, the rain had begun to come down in sheets. I could barely see the nearest horses. I remember whinnying to them that the herd was moving, and we would be left behind, but Brooke was too unnerved to budge. All too soon, the river rose, probably to above-the-knee depth, and still the rain fell. The spring rains had come early!

Calm Waters, Brooke, and I had been forced to remain on our side of the river. Days had passed before the water returned to normal level. We'd crossed to the other side and continued on, and we saw that the path branched off into two new paths!

Here I will admit my foolishness, for I had never thought about our lead mare's directions much. We did not go to our winter territory that way–quite the opposite.

My instinct was to pick up the herd's scent, but the rain had dampened the ground, and I smelled nothing but muddy, water-soaked earth. Their tracks had been washed away, as well, so that was out of the question.

"Do you know the way?" I'd asked my sister.

"No, I'm afraid."

I'd wanted to move off on my own to scout ahead–maybe a clue had survived the rains. But I couldn't leave them behind. Predators would notice their vulnerability and attack, and I loved them too much to let that happen.

I did know that at some point, the path angled down, and we thus entered the valley, so I'd started for the path that appeared to lead that way. Little had I known. . . .


	2. Not Alone

**[A/N: The accounts of "Bright Star of the West©," "Clear Sky©," and "Graceful Maiden©" will overlap with one another, so bear with me if parts become repetitive. Once again, I do not own Dreamworks's/Kathleen Duey's original characters.

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**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 2–Not Alone**

We walked along the path for another two days, and we had no idea of our location. I had chosen the wrong path, and it was too late to turn back. Our pace had already slowed from weakness. The trees had no leaves to offer, and grass hadn't been very palatable. Looking back, I think our path took us around the valley. In any event, we'd eventually broken through the forest onto a small meadow. I could smell water, and thought we could've regained our strength there, and from there find another herd to live with.

That was the day they found us. . .the Lakota.

No sooner had I taken five steps into the meadow, a band of humans–sitting astride their horses–appeared, whooping and hollering. One noticed me, and I bolted to my right, hoping they would follow me and not notice Calm Waters and Brook. **[A/N: –The Native American version of the name. Sorry 'bout that. **Two out of four acted as I'd anticipated. The other half focused on Calm Waters.

I will say that I truly admired her courage (I still do), for she'd held her ground and faced off with the humans. I'm sure she'd wanted to run away as I had, even though she was an adult. But because she was and adult–no, a parent–she had to put her needs aside for her child.

She hadn't had to fight that day, however. The four humans had realized there was a foal with us, and had backed away, watching us from a distance. I'd rejoined my sister and niece and stared at them.

The humans that had interested me the most was an old-looking man. . . well, he was old compared to his companions, anyway. He'd worn a great, feathered object upon his head, colored markings had adorned his face and body, and he'd carried a large stick with a pointed rock at the end of it. His horse, and elegant, well-built, mature, black-and-white paint mare, also had markings on her body–there were four green circles on her left hind-quarter. She'd watched us as they had. . . steadily, cautiously. She'd tossed her head once or twice, a thin, coiled vine that hung from her mouth lashing about. I'd thought that the vine would be uncomfortable, but she hadn't seemed to mind.

The other humans had also somehow placed colored markings on their horses, but they themselves were not as decorated as the older man. Their status must have been lower than his. (I know now that I was correct in my assumption.)

The paint mare shook her mane and snorted, her nostrils flared. She had been trying to pick up our scent, impatient to continue on their way. Her rider had picked up upon the signal, and gestured that they move on. The other three had followed without question, and they'd gone back to whooping as they went.

I, who had taken the dominant, "lead-mare" like role, had sidled round to face my older sister.

"Do you think those were those terrible humans horses talked about?" (I had been talking about the humans that live in the far off desert. Several horses in our herd had told us that they were used to carry men into battle, and were groomed extensively. They'd had–at first–very short manes, a shortened tail, heavy metal bars in the shape of their hooves, and "US" forever burned onto their shoulders.)

"I don't think so," she'd replied. "These humans are different. They respect horses. The symbols on their horses' bodies did not appear to be permanent–parts were faded. They looked proud to be treated as such."

"Do you think we can join them?"

"Maybe. Let's wait until those four return, and then we'll investigate."

That was what we'd done. We'd watched the four riders return with a large stag, waited until sunset, and followed the hoof-prints on the ground. As it turned out, we stood on one of two hills that overlooked the village, and that valley was much more expansive than we'd thought.

A stream–probably a branch of the river some distance away–ran neatly through this part of the valley. Several shelters stood next to the stream, a wooden enclosure opposite them, and horses had scattered themselves throughout the place. We'd decided that being down there was better than being in our old, exposed position. We'd quietly walked down the hill and hid in a stand of trees. It hadn't taken long for the patrol to notify the entire village of our presence. They'd gawked and chattered from a respectable distance, and come no closer. We'd figured the highly decorated man had mentioned us.

The humans had remained I their place for a few moments, and then a young woman had come forward carrying three apples. I'd flattened my ears and put myself between her and my family. Sure, she'd offered peace gifts, but she might have called for her friends to attack us!

She hadn't. She'd retreated after placing the apples on the ground. After that, all but the patrol left.


	3. Welcoming

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 3–Welcoming**

"Wake up, my dear."

I'd opened my eyes, momentarily blinded by the mid-morning sun. Calm Waters had nudged my awake.

"What is it?"

"We have company."

"What?"

She'd lifted her muzzle toward the village. The paint mare, a grey stallion, and a brown-pinto filly had ventured into our section of the plain, and had identification in mind.

Brook had edged forward, her body tense, and whinnied softly. The filly was about three years old, her age at the time. The stallion, I believe, was my age, and the mare was older than Calm Waters.

They'd stopped a short distance from us, and had not said anything at first. Then the mare spoke.

"Welcome to the village. I am Dusk, mount of Chief Loud Fox. From where do you come?"

She'd certainly had the speech of a chief's horse.

"We come from the plains over these mountains," Calm Waters had replied, "and it is a pleasure to make you acquaintance."

The stallion hadn't been paying attention. He'd smiled at me and tossed his head. He'd had a blue circle around his right eye. As for the filly, she'd only worn a single feather in her mane.

"My name is Clear Sky," he'd said. He had a very handsome and friendly face.

"And I am Rain." Brook had reared playfully, and had been followed by an equally excited Rain.

"How did you get here? Do you have names?"

"Names?" Calm Waters and I had asked with a start. What had she meant by that? I don't think wild mares name their foals. Perhaps it would have been too painful to bear. . . horses died, stallions captured mares, stallions were pushed away from the herd. . . I could go on in detail!

"Well, we were separated from our herd by an overflowing river. And no, we do not have names."

Dusk had snorted in shock, and Clear Sky had looked at us sympathetically.

"Well, that won't do! If you stay here, you will be fed, sheltered, and treated well." Calm Waters had followed Dusk straight away, but I had seen dogs, as well as horses and humans. . . dogs!

Clear Sky had looked back at me, cocked his head to the side, and trotted to me.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to come?"

I'd nervously backed away a step or two, and said, "Well, I. . . I do. . . but. . . ."

"What?"

"The dogs the humans have. . . they won't hurt us, will they?"

"No, no, of course not! Do you think Dusk, the others, and myself would be here if they did hurt us?"

"I guess not."

"You'll be fine. Come." Clear Sky had smiled at me again, insisting that I believe him. He'd had a good point. . . the humans had treated them well, and the dogs hadn't eaten them. I'd supposed there wasn't much of a problem, so I'd relented and followed him, and marveled at the sight of the village.


	4. Warhorses and Acceptance

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 4–Warhorses and Acceptance**

With the addition of Calm Waters, Brook, and myself, the village had a total of fifteen horses (I will only name those I was close to):

Dusk, Chief Loud Fox's mare–as I've said–and the eldest horse in the village. She was very thoughtful and wise, qualities I'd seen in Loud Fox. (Like rider, like horse, I guess.) She had a colt, Soaring Eagle, and he had apparently inherited his looks from his father, whomever that was.

Storm, a black-and-white pinto, the father of Rain. He was from a long line of captive-bred horses, and he'd reminded me of Clear Sky. But, Clear Sky was a bit more talkative than he.

Sierra, Rain's mother, and like us, a former wild horse. Wolves had torn her away from her herd, and Storm had brought her to the village. There, she'd borne his daughter. Rain was as pleasant as her parents, and had a streak of cleverness, as well.

There was a grey mare named Graceful Maiden, and she had been a cavalry horse before coming to the village. She had three hoof-shaped marks on her left shoulder. She'd said that she had been next-in-line to be branded (she was a mere yearling at the time). The colt in front of her had violently reacted to the branding tool, more so than other horses, and had kicked the firebox over, sending the entire wooden fort into flames. She had managed to break free of her handler and flee the fort. She'd had no idea whether her friends had escaped or not.

Then there was Clear Sky. Like Storm, he was the descendant of many Lakota horses, and he was very nice to us. I was closer to him than any other horse I'd met. Calm Waters and I got along, but she was two years old by the time I'd come into the world. And Brook. . . well, I was her aunt, a second mother, not her playmate. Clear Sky–again, as I've said–was my age, give or take a year, and I'd found it much easier for me to ask questions of him instead of one of the others.

"Clear Sky?" I'd asked one afternoon.

"Yes?"

"How do you and the other horses acquire those colored markings?"

"Colored markings? Oh! You mean the paint, right?"

Now, the only thing I had been able to call "paint" was an individual's coat pattern. "Uh, sure," I'd said in confusion.

"I know what you're thinking. 'Paint' is really mashed up berries and flowers mixed with water. Our riders use small sticks to draw symbols on our coats."

"But, why would they do that?"

"For luck during a hunt or a battle."

"Really? Does it work?"

"I don't know, but we all feel great! It means our riders respect us."

"But, you all only have one part of your body painted. The humans have more."

"We wear more paint when it's needed. When I was taken on a hunt, I had my circle around my eye, my nose, my legs, and on my right shoulder."

"And the feathers?"

"'Same purpose."

"And these people you live with. . . who are they?"

"They're one of the Lakota tribes of the Sioux Nation," he'd said proudly, his tail lifting and a gleam in his eye.

". . . . And in plain language, that all means. . . ?"

"You see, this is the Sihasapa tribe. It is one of seven branches of the Lakota. The other six tribes are the Sinćangu, Itazipacola, Hunkpapa, Miniconjou, Oglala, and Oohenonpa."

"Wow!" I'd been interested after I'd known what he'd been talking about. "Go on!"

"Now, the Lakota group is one of three subdivisions of the Sioux Nation, the other two being Dakota and Nakota."

"Are the Nakota and Dakota divided, too?"

"Indeed, they are."

"What about the Sioux? Are they a branch of something?"

"That I don't know. You'd have to ask Dusk about that."

Well, I'd had more questions. He'd been kind enough to put up with it, so I'd taken the opportunity.

"How do they choose names?"

"It's based on a quality, trait, talent, or on personal history. For instance, Dusk was named 'Dusk' because her mother had given birth to her at dusk. Rain received her name because it'd begun to rain when she was born."

"Oh." Then, I'd thought about myself for a moment, and I hadn't been able to come up with any memorable qualities.

He'd somehow been able to read my mind. "Don't worry. Your new rider will name you."

"Rider?"

"Sure! Part of claiming a horse is taming and naming!" he'd replied cheerfully.

"I, uh, see. . . ."

It'd turned out that a young man named Swift Deer had chosen me as his horse. I'd heard him telling his friends, Little Creek and Silent Wind, that my form was sturdy and smooth. (I'm still not sure about that, but as long as it was a compliment, I don't mind.) I had been looking forward to the decoration part, but he had to have tamed me before that step.

First, he'd brought me to the enclosure at the edge of village, and introduced the long vine and a flat, colorful pelt of some kind. I knew the vine supposed to have been placed in my mouth, and I will say that I'd objected to the notion. (The pelt that was draped over my back was easy enough to bear.) Swift Deer had next brought Graceful Maiden to the enclosure, and put a vine in her mouth with no trouble. She'd whinnied to me, "It's not so bad. You forget it's there after a while."

Yes, one forgot it was there because the space between one's front and back teeth lost all feeling! At no time, in my five years of life, had anyone told me that I was required to have a vine wrapped around my bottom jaw!

I'd snorted loudly in disagreement, and hadn't allowed the vine to be put in.

Later that day, Loud Fox and Dusk had come to the enclosure. The Chief had brought a basket full of corn for me, and had talked to me as I ate.

"You and your friends have been through a a great deal. You came here thin and exhuasted, yet a flame burned in each of your hearts. Courage is admired, Mustang."

"They do respect us," I'd thought.

"You and the mare look very much alike, Mustang. You must be related. . . sisters, perhaps. . . the mare's legs were covered in mud. . . you must have dome from the lands beyond the river. She is gentle, patient, and steady. Her name is now Calm Waters, and the filly is Brook."

"Hm, 'Calm Waters' and 'Brook'," I'd thought again. "The names suit them. . . she is calm under pressure, whether she forces herself to be calm or not. And, well, the brook that ran through the entire valley is what brought us here. I like the names."

"But you, Mustang, need a name." Loud Fox had then walked into the enclosure and looked me over. "Hmm. . . you have a small white spot on your hock."

"Really?" I'd looked back at my leg, and had seen nothing. "What white spot?" No one had told me about it.

Loud Fox looked into the sky. "And the western star is out already. . . your 'star' is facing the real one. . . 'Star of the West' seems nice. . . I'll have to suggest it to Swift Deer." When he'd walked away, Dusk had moved closer to my part of the enclosure and had said, "I'll tell you, young one. . . I didn't like the vine at first, either. But, it isn't as bad as it looks. Sometimes our riders don't even use it. All in all, it's based on how much weight and to what part of our backs the weight is directed. When we do have the vines, it's because extra guidance is needed. I'm very proud to carry the Chief."

Having heard that, I'd rethought my new role as Swift Deer's mount. It'd seemed honorable, and I'd noticed that most of the villagers were fairly thin, so they probably didn't make their horses too uncomfortable.

To make a longer story short, I'd resolved to be Swift Deer's horse, and received the name, "Bright Star of the West."


	5. Crusade

**[A/N: The latter half of this chapter and the next few will move along fast.

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**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 5–Crusade**

Now, nearly a year later, I was sneaking closer to the tents to make eavesdropping easier. Loud Fox was talking about the increase in able-bodied warriors this year. [I guess they had all come of age at the same time. Out of the ten horses here, seven doubled as packhorses as well as war horses: Clear Sky, Graceful Maiden, Storm, Rain, Soaring Eagle, Dusk, and myself. [Oh, I forgot to mention that Rain and Brook are the same age as Soaring Eagle, and they're four this year. Sierra, Calm Waters, and Brook were reserved only as packhorses. Thus, with such a tightly-knit group of horses, and through situations that left horses dead or missing, I'm pretty sure that one can guess that the breeding pool was limited, and we needed more horses now!

That's why, on this cool, breezy night, Chief Loud Fox had called the villagers together. He said:

"You know that our tribe, the Blackfoot tribe, had gained a new and strong group of warriors. This year, these young braves have come of age, and must now have a great honor bestowed unto them. Thus, our experienced warriors will journey to the lands beyond our valley." [Wow, that was a good guess on my part.

The warriors in question stood up and replied, "We will go wherever we must, Chief Loud Fox."

"I am impressed by your enthusiasm, but there will only be three of you out there. The army's strength is equal to ours. The village will need protection."

Silent Wind, Graceful Maiden's rider, stepped forward and said, "Name the three warriors, Chief Loud Fox."

Loud Fox stood silent for agonizingly long moments. My friends picked their heads up and waited.

". . . .Silent Wind. . . Little Creek. . . and Swift Deer."

Sierra let out a small, shock-filled whinny, and looked over at Storm. Calm Waters looked at me with concern, and I knew why. Some months ago, a group had been given the same task, and neither they, nor their horses, were ever seen again.

"Where will we go?" Little Creek asked.

"You will search in the plains to the north, south, and west of our land. Bring valuable items and weapons with you."

"The army is encamped in the south!" a villager cried. "They will surely die!"

"There are plenty of herds in the west and north! They can look there and come home!" added another.

"Silence!" the Chief bellowed. [I think I speak for all of the horses when I say that a shiver ran down my spine to the end of my tail. "I have decided," he went on firmly. "You will leave on the next half-moon. May the spirits guide you on your journey."

I walked back to the others and thought about it. This would be the biggest journey I would've participated in since our arrival. I'd see part of my old home. I wondered if it'd changed much.

The half-moon appeared a week later, and, illuminated by its light, we left the village. Sierra called out to Rain a few times, and I'm sure she would have kept doing so, but our other friends probably calmed her down. It became eerily silent. Little Creek, Silent Wind, and Swift Deer didn't say anything to one another. I got the feeling that none of them really wanted to leave the village.

We kept walking until we reached the western plains–which took all of four days–and we realized that the buffalo had moved on, and with them the Native Americans that inhabited this territory. That meant the tribe in the north could not spare any horses. [A/N: They need them for hunting. It all came down to finding mustangs and runaway cavalry horses.

Rain and I were nervous about the army, while Graceful Maiden seemingly accepted the possibility of capture. I decided to ask what the cavalry was like. Her response:

"Well. . . the first thing that happens is your mane is cut to a very short length, so that it stands up as it did when we were foals. Then, a small length of your tail is cut so it's straight. Next comes horseshoes, branding, tacking up, trial rides, and company training."

"What's 'tacking up'?" Rain asked.

"That's when you have a blanket, saddle, and bridle put on. The cavalry doesn't allow bareback riding–the men sit in the saddles on our backs. Bridles are complicated leather head restraints that fasten along the side of your head, under your chin, under your throat, and–for guidance–a metal bar called a bit is held in your mouth. It has one ring on each side, and the reins are attached to those rings."

"How do your riders direct you?"

"Through different pressure points on our sides and the reins."

"What about close company training?" I asked.

"Close company training means that the horses have to be able to walk, trot, canter, and gallop in a relatively tight group: two to several horses across, in long columns or rows."

Rain and I weren't really sure about what that all meant, but we didn't want to know, either. We did, however, notice that her outline had changed. She arched her neck, stiffened her legs, and carried her tail higher. As we left the grasslands and entered the desert, her step became more elevated and confidant. I guess moving closer to the fort caused her to revert to past memories.

Another day went by before we spotted any horses. They were feeding on some desert plants. The cavalry post was in the distance. We could all smell smoke, and concluded that the horses had escaped a fire or a new one had been made. Graceful Maiden grunted in disgust. [As you can imagine, smoke is an unpleasant smell to humans, so its much worse for us.

Swift Deer said quietly, "Little Creek, gallop around their right in a wide arc. Silent Wind, you do the same on the other side. Move them toward me–I'll have a barrier waiting."

"Right," they said, and they cantered away. The horses lifted their heads, looked at us, and went back to feeding. Swift Deer dismounted and strung several pieces of rope between rocks and shrubs. He was probably going to corner the horses, and then help Little Creek and Silent Wind capture them. I just hoped they saw the rope before they stumbled over one of them.

Suddenly, loud bangs echoed from up ahead, and I saw our friends racing our way. The army's patrolmen had spotted them and were attacking! The horses we were after panicked and ran away. Rain and Graceful Maiden were going as fast they could, shots ringing out louder than before, bullets hitting rocks, the ground, and flying overhead. I whinnied to them that ropes had been set up, but Rain didn't hear me. She stumbled, Little Creek becoming unseated, and both contacted the ground with a thud. One soldier leapt from his horse and pinned Little Creek down while two of his partners chased us away. Silent Wind had to throw a rope over Rain's neck and drag her away.

We ran until the fort was barely visible on the horizon, and there we stayed, near an enormous rock formation. Rain was anxious. . . we all were. Little Creek had been captures before we'd had a chance to even defend him. They might enslave him or kill him.

"Silent Wind? What do you suggest we do?" Swift Deer whispered late that night.

"Well, we must first observe the patrolmen's habits, and use any opportunity we get to ascertain Little Creek's situation. If possible, we must provide him with conceal-able weaponry and a tool to aid in his escape. We must, whatever we decide, set him free before a soldier is ordered to kill him."

Then and there, Swift Deer and Silent Wind packed up their weapons and ran into the cool desert night. Rain tried to follow, eager to reunite with her rider, but she was held back by Graceful Maiden.

"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed. "Little Creek is in danger and needs help!"

"I know, but there is only much horses can do. Silent Wind and Swift Deer will get him out. Trust them, Rain."

"How can you say this!? What if it was Silent Wind in that fort? Would you sit her idly, and let Little Creek and Swift Deer take their time!?"

Graceful Maiden unleashed a low roar of fury and sharply bit the young mare on the shoulder, lowered her head, and flattened her ears.

"How dare you take that tone?! Of the men I've known, Silent Wind is the kindest and most caring! I love him almost as much as my own mother! I'd do anything for him! However, I also know my limits as a horse, just as I know his limitations as a human! I cannot wield a bow-and-arrows, nor a tomahawk, nor a spear, nor a gun; humans can!" She would have gone further, I'm sure, but I stepped between them and ended the confrontation. As I stood there, it dawned upon me that Graceful Maiden had no family members waiting in the village, while Rain and I did. With that in mind, I agreed with her.

Rain backed down in fear, and moved to a point a short distance away, while Graceful Maiden fumed and brooded. I had no idea of what to do, so I found my own spot and mused.

After a while, my thoughts turned to Clear Sky. I'd found myself thinking about him a lot lately. I'm not sure why. . . I really like him, of that I'm sure. What wasn't to like? He was very nice, sensitive, intelligent–he'd told me so much about the Blackfoot and all–charismatic, and generally likeable.

Then I thought about our lifestyle as a whole. . . namely: there were two already-grown stallions and a recently-matured colt in the same place, yet there was no bachelor group of any kind–the rules of hierarchy were freer somehow, and to be honest I still wasn't quite used to it. With so many stallions available for mating, the chances of producing valuable offspring were endless! However, mares are with foal for eleven months–a long time for a village with so many warriors and many enemies.

Swift Deer and Silent Wind returned later–in a considerably good mood–and immediately settled down to sleep. I looked over to Graceful Maiden, who lifted her head gleefully. Then I looked at Rain, and she smiled in relief–she'd sensed it, too. . . we knew that something had been planned. Little Creek would be amongst us again soon.


	6. Army Threat

**[A/N: Again, the chapter will move very fast. For the most part, it'll be Star's POV during the village scenes and the Railroad scenes. Then the fun begins!

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**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 6–Army Threat**

The next afternoon, around mid-day, we were stationed a few hundred yards away from the fort. Swift Deer and Silent Wind had been scouting all morning, and had come back talking about Little Creek's escape. [I noticed that Silent Wind's knife was missing–I guess he'd somehow given the knife to him.

It was an agonizingly long wait. Rain was very fidgety, as expected, but I think she was worried about Graceful Maiden, as well. [As far as I knew, they hadn't settled their differences yet. Her uneasiness made me uneasy. Swift Deer gently rubbed the back of my ears and soothed me.

Then we heard a gunshot and a great commotion from within the fort. Men were shouting, horses were whinnying, and objects were crashing about. There was another, louder shot, and as Swift Deer edged me forward, I could see a large man standing between two wooden doors, as if he was trying to keep something behind them. He was knocked back by that something, and a dun stallion leapt over him, with Little Creek hanging onto his neck and twenty or so horses behind him. We followed at a less-than-equal pace. The cavalry horses split up, and Little Creek howled like a wolf–that was Rain's cue to come to him, escape or no escape. She galloped faster and ran alongside the stallion so Little Creek could jump onto her back. He stopped her, so as to stop in the path of the stallion. Silent Wind and Swift Deer pulled out their coiled vines as we came up behind him, and threw them over his neck when we were close enough.

"You're among friends," I whinnied to him. As Swift Deer patted my neck, Graceful Maiden added, "You will not come to any harm." I don't think he believed us–he'd hun his head and snorted in irritation.

We walked until darkness set in and rested. The stallion was wary of us–not that he didn't have a reason to be wary–and did not eat the food that had been given to him. Rain was curious about him, and both Graceful Maiden and I knew that she was more than curious. . . she was downright smitten. We also knew that he would be hard to tame, and doubted that her ever would be tamed. There was something in his eyes that showed his determination to return to his home, wherever that may have been. Whether a villager named him or not, I decided to name him "Raging Fire"–Graceful Maiden and Rain agreed to the name.

Raging Fire did not talk to us as the trip came to an end. The familiar atmosphere of the village was a welcome reward for our work. I don't really remember what Raging Fire did after the night we arrived, for Rain had been given the task of "educating" him–that is, he was taught how to behave around the villagers. I never found out how it turned out because. . . well, I'm getting ahead of myself.

After Swift Deer removed the vine and the feathers, I sought out Calm Waters. I knew she had been worried, and she was glad to see me alive and well.

"Graceful Maiden was just telling us what happened," she said. "How terrible! It's a good thing none of you were hurt badly!"

"Yes, we were lucky," Rain chimed in. Sierra and Storm were nuzzling their daughter in relief, eyeing the scrapes on her legs.

"Yes, and she was just getting to the good part," Dusk added. Soaring Eagle was about to burst from excitement. Clear Sky came over and stood by me, and we held a conversation of our own. The others listened to an account of our tour, from the day we'd left to that night. The next day, Swift Deer was decorating Clear Sky–after he'd finished Graceful Maiden and I–when Rain appeared. She had been tied to Raging Fire in order to show him around the village. Clear Sky was just about to receive the blue circle around his eye.

"Hey there!" Graceful Maiden and I called. Clear Sky followed with, "Come join us!"

"What?"

"Watch," he replied, and lowered his head to make putting the circle on easier for Swift Deer. He looked up when he was through.

"There's no way. . . !"

"Oh, come on, it isn't so terrible."

"No way!"

We heard much later on that Raging Fire had knocked the paint-bowl over and covered Little Creek in paint. Yes, his name suited his personality!

The months passed rapidly, summer became fall, and we were happy to see Rain so much in love with Raging Fire. He had changed immensely! He now knew that these humans weren't going to hurt him. [That, of course, did not mean he was going to let anyone ride him. The weather was still on the warm side. We grazed lazily, and enjoyed our afternoon talks. One afternoon, Rain walked by as she made her way to the apple tree on the hill. Soaring Eagle cantered over to her. The poor thing was blatantly in love with her, and she paid him no mind.

"Hi, Rain! Where's Raging Fire?"

"'In the enclosure. Little Creek is trying to tame him again. I doubt he'll make any progress." She smiled and walked away. Soaring Eagle pranced back to us, proud at his own progress. He was either naive and did not realize Rain loved Raging Fire, or he refused to accept it. What made the entire situation more complicated was Brook's feelings for Soaring Eagle.

"She's right!" he said. "That mustang will never let anyone ride him. He's just too wild."

"Being a mustang makes no difference!" Brook retorted. "We were mustangs and look at us! My mother and I are respected pack horses, and my aunt is as good a riding horse as your mother!" Soaring Eagle's eyes widened in surprise. Brook usually wasn't as verbal as that.

"She's right," said Storm. "I've known mustangs to take to carrying a human almost immediately, while captive-bred horses never carry a human. Not every individual conforms to a set belief. That applies to humans, too."

Soaring Eagle had just offered his apologies when he snapped his head up in alarm, squealing as he rose onto his hind legs. We followed his gaze and added to his frantic whinnies. The army had found our village! The one man, sporting a large hat and light brown hair called, "Charge!" and threw his horse into a gallop. His companions, arranged in two long horizontal rows followed close behind.

"Go! Run, they're attacking!" Dusk called. She ran to find Loud Fox; Storm nuzzled Sierra's neck and face before they left to find their owners; then Soaring Eagle; Clear Sky; and Graceful Maiden. Rain appeared out of nowhere and nearly ran into me as I searched for Swift Deer. The army-men had already stormed the village and were not hesitating in tearing down tents and fighting with the villagers. A stray bullet grazed my flank, leaving a deep scrape that blood poured from. I saw Dusk carrying a large parcel; Calm Waters had two young girls on her back; and Brook was dragging a sort of ramp thing laden with supplies. They were going to the land on the other side of the river–they'd be safe there.

Graceful Maiden was bucking and rearing, laying into army-men, Silent Wind never losing his seat. Clear Sky had no rider, and as I continued to search for my own, my chest tightened up with anxiety. Something other than the attack was wrong.

As I rounded a curve between two destroyed tents, I was ensnared by a soldier's rope, and fell to the ground. Another rope was thrown around my right foreleg, so I was unable to get up and bolt. I glared at the man, concern for Swift Deer still plaguing my thoughts, and realized that my captor was one of the men that had captured Little Creek! He recognized me, as well, and laughed wickedly, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the mount of the savage! Hah, that idiot couldn't steal U.S. horses without being noticed, and he couldn't keep himself alive to return the favor!"

". . . . couldn't keep himself alive. . . ."?

No! Swift Deer was dead!? I'd heard wrong, surely!

More men came with ropes, and I was allowed to stand upright, though a head-collar was put on, and the another rope adorned my neck.

The villagers were across the river, looking on as these men stole and rummaged through the remains of the village. Swift Deer was among the dead out there. . . I couldn't leave. . . not until I'd seen for myself that it was true. . . .

I tried to fight the pull of the ropes, but the pain in my leg from my fall and the pressure on my throat won me over. I fell into step behind them in a daze. It was only when we'd made our first stop en route to wherever we were going that I realized Clear Sky and Graceful Maiden had been captured along with me. Silent Wind, I was told, had been killed as well. Clear did not know what had happened to Half Moon after he'd been knocked off of him. [How could I not have known they were with me for two days!? Graceful Maiden was worse off than I or Clear Sky, and was in a world of her own a lot of the time. Clear Sky stayed close to us, and comforted us as best he could. We only had one another now.

We reached our destination the next day. We came over a hill and were bewildered by the sight. There were no trees–just tree stumps and logs–a huge stretch of wooden boxes on wheels, a metal object in front of them, a building on the other side of the boxes, and an enclosure with horses in it. Clear Sky and I looked at Graceful Maiden for some sort of an explanation, hoping they wouldn't kill us, but it was a wasted effort. Graceful Maiden was still unresponsive to us, a blank expression on her face.

"Clear Sky, what do we do?" I asked shakily.

Something in his eyes reminded me of a look Storm had given Sierra one day–it was a look of anguish toward the questioner [if that makes sense. It hurt him to see me so afraid.

"Graceful Maiden, snap out of it!" he cried abruptly, the men tugging on the ropes hush him. The mare did not respond. "Listen to me! We are in serious danger here! You are the only one that can help! Snap out of it!" When she again said nothing, he bit her on the shoulder. She squealed in pain, and looked at us in uncertainty.

"What's going on? Where are we?" she asked. [I felt so sorry for her!

"You filthy beast, shush!" a man barked to Clear Sky, and he raised an arm. I caught sight of his riding whip, and violently reared up before he could strike Clear Sky. I don't know why I did it, but I felt I had to do it.

"Easy there, Hank," another man said. "Don't go around hitting this girl's mate, now."

Mate?! I looked at the stallion with the charming blue circle on his eye, and he was smiling! I laid my ears back timidly and looked away.

We were brought toward the row of boxes next. A wooden plank was set up, so that one end was on the ground with us, and the other was at the box's entrance, some four feet up.

"All right, now," the man that had spoken to Hank said to Graceful Maiden. She first tested the plank's strength, then carefully walked up into the box. Clear Sky followed without much hesitation, and it was my turn all too soon.

Were they joking!? I'd heard the plank groan and creek when Graceful Maiden and Clear Sky stepped on it, it definitely wasn't going to hold me! The men urged me to walk forward, but I urged that I not go in there right back.

"Star!" Clear Sky called to me.

"I can't, Clear Sky! It'll break!"

"It's okay, Star! It held when I walked on it, and I'm a bit larger than you or Graceful Maiden."

"No! I can't!" I protested, my hooves dancing nervously.

"Hank, the chloroform!"

What was chloroform? I watched as Hank pulled out a cloth and a small bottle. He placed the end of the bottle to the cloth and tipped it over a few times, then jammed the cloth into my face, covering my nose.

My world began to spin, and everything became vague. My body was numb. I had no control over myself. I know that the box came closer to me, and then I was in it. The men left me alone, and I collapsed.

My next view was of Graceful Maiden sleeping at the other side of the box. I stood up groggily, felt my legs give out, and then I saw Clear Sky from the corner of my eyes, holding me up.

"Oh. . . Clear Sky. . . what. . . what happened?"

"Hank used something called chloroform on you. It made you dizzy and easier to handle."

"Oh." I tried to gather myself and stand on my own.

"No, don't, Star! Lay down again!"

"Don't be silly, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine." I straightened myself and was able to remain standing. "So, where are we?"

"We're still at the station, but we'll move once more horses are found."

"Station?"

"Yes. We're in what's called a cattle-car, and there are many more besides our own. The metal smoking thing is called an engine. The engine and cattle-cars make up one long train. Therefore, this place is called a train station, because the train stops here every so often." It's wasn't his usual style of answering a question, and I still couldn't grasp the details, but something was better than nothing.

"Why have they captured us?"

"I don't know, I'm afraid. I keep hearing things about a railroad and a new engine. That's about it, though."

We heard another horse walk up the plank in another part of the train, and then the door was slid shut with such force that I felt our own car shake. Graceful Maiden awoke form her sleep with a jump, and then noticed that I was up and about.

"Well now, welcome back, Star. We thought we'd lost you. Isn't that right, Clear Sky?" she said. I looked at the stallion, and his eyes were wide. She'd probably struck a nerve. Had he been more concerned than he'd seemed moments ago?

"Star?" asked Graceful Maiden.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right? You zoned out for a moment, there."

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. 'Just a bit tired, 'is all."

She nudged a small pile of straw with her nose. "You just need some food in you. Go on, eat."

I only ate a mouthful or two, for I really wasn't hungry to begin with, and Clear Sky ate nothing at all. I sensed him watching me as I ate, and I was content and unsettled at the same time. I thought he'd be happy that I was all right, and that he'd be his old self again. So much for that, I guess.

I fell asleep again, and the sun was beginning to rise. Graceful Maiden was still asleep, and Clear Sky was looking through the spaces between the wood of the door. I quietly walked over to him and touched his neck with my muzzle.

"'Morning, Star," he said softly.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I didn't sleep much, to be honest."

". . . . Clear Sky, is something bothering you? You've been acting strangely, recently."

"I know. I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed."

"Yes, it's been some week."

"How are you this morning?"

"Oh, well, I-I'm fine." If I was able to do so, I would've turned red in the face from embarrassment. "What about you? Have you eaten?"

"'A mouthful here and there."

I picked up a small amount with my mouth and offered it to him.

"No thank you, Star."

I chewed the straw slowly, and lapsed into silence.

"Star?"

"Yes?"

"What's it like to be a mustang?"

What was I supposed to say? There obviously weren't humans around to care for us, of that he knew. But, how was I to describe behaviors that came naturally to me? I decided to wing it.

"Well. . . uh. . . ." [Okay, I guess winging it wasn't as easy as I'd thought.

"What?" he asked.

Great! Now he was growing impatient with me!

"Being a mustang. . . it's hard to explain, Clear Sky. I really don't think there is an explanation for it."

"The lifestyle is that different, huh?"

"Well, for one, there wouldn't be two grown stallions and a recently-grown stallion in the same place. Soaring Eagle would've been pushed out, and either you or Storm would've been the head stallion. That is, if Storm was the leader, you and Soaring Eagle would be part of a bachelor group. Sometimes leaders push young mares away, as well." [A/N: The information on wild horse behavior courtesy of Wikipedia.

"Why?"

"It's done to prevent inbreeding."

"How old are the horses when they're driven away?"

"'Around two years old. It depends on the stallion's personality."

"What about herd life?"

"Well, the herd is split into bands–"

"Bands?"

"Yes. A band is kind of like a small herd, with as many as twenty or more horses in it. When the bands join together, they follow one lead mare."

"'Not the stallion?"

"'Nope. The stallion is the protector and the one that urges the stragglers along. The mare dictates when the herd moves, where it rests, and where it eats and drinks. She also maintains social order within the herd."

"What about enemies?"

"There's quite a few of those. . . wolves, bears, coyotes, cougars, and humans."

"Humans?! But I told you about the Na–"

"Not the Native Americans. . . these humans. The ones that strip horses of their manes, cuts their tails, burned them with that infernal bar, and nail those bars onto their hooves. They have scouts that travel around and capture horses for them, for their use. Did you not pay attention to Graceful Maiden's–oh, that's right, she was born into stable-life."

"They come after you?"

"Yes."

"And there are still hundreds of horses left?"

"Yes."

"How do they do it?"

"They adapt to it, I guess. Humans were common in my herd's territory, so were wary of anything that alluded to their presence."

"If we escape this place, do you think we can find our way back to the village?"

"I doubt it. There's no way we can leave this car without being seen, and they're planning on taking us somewhere. If we escape, we may have to join a wild herd."

"You'll have to lead us, Star."

"What!? Me?!"

"You are the only one with the knowledge to survive, Star."

"No, I'm not."

"What?"

"You and the other horses behaved in the exact same was as mustangs without even realizing it. Long ago, you wild ancestors looked to the humans for guidance and security. You are all mustangs in your hearts."

"Really?"

"Yes, Clear Sky. Soon, your instincts will kick in, and you will be able to handle yourself. I've seen it with my own eyes."

He nodded and resumed staring through the slats in the door. I went back to my place next to Graceful Maiden. Just as I was beginning to doze off once again, I felt the warmth of his body next to mine in that car. He nudged me awake and kindly rubbed his head against my own, nickering a, "Thank you, Starry Night."

"Starry Night?"

"Yes, it's your new name. It's easier than 'Bright Star of the West'. Plus, 'Star' befits both names," he replied, his muzzle still buried in my mane.

"Oh," I replied. "Does Graceful Maiden know of this?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"No. It's between us, okay?"

"Well, um, sure. . . all right." A name between us! I could hardly believe it! Maybe this was the start of a life I'd dreamed about for months!


	7. Raging Fires Never Quit

**(A/N: This chapter is pretty vague at first, I know, but it'll get better, I promise.)

* * *

**

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 7–Raging Fires Never Quit**

I looked up as the sliding door of the car opened, and the familiar dun stallion stepped inside.

"Raging Fire!" I nickered. Clear Sky and Graceful Maiden looked at me in confusion, and I looked at them with newfound hope. If any horse could free us, it was him. We whinnied to him in a friendly greeting. He merely looked at us with no emotion and stood at the far end of the car. What was wrong with him?

The door slammed shut and was locked. Then a voice from outside said, "All clear! Take her away!" The car rattled and jerked, sending Graceful Maiden into me, and I into Clear Sky. We could see the land flying by, and we could smell the smoke from the engine more than ever. [A breeze sometimes carried the smoke towards us. We still had no idea of where we were going, and there was an uneasy silence amongst us. We were worried about Raging Fire, too.

"Hey, where's Rain?" Clear Sky asked.

"I don't know," replied Graceful Maiden. "I figured she would have been with Raging Fire."

However soft-voiced they may been, he'd heard them anyway, and looked up. I neighed to him with a smile. My response was a snort. Looks passed amongst us, and Clear Sky picked up a mouthful of straw and brought it to him. "Here, eat," I heard him say. Raging Fire turned away and Clear Sky shook his head in defeat.

"Something must have happened to Rain," Graceful Maiden whispered.

"Whether that is true or not does not matter," I hissed. "We shouldn't be talking about it, it'll make things worse!"

Clear Sky nuzzled my neck briefly, and touched his muzzle to Graceful Maiden's. It was a common gesture among horses, one that strengthened the bonds amongst herd-mates. To see Raging Fire so upset made us edgy. He took his place beside me and closed his eyes in relaxation.

"You know, Star, you don't have to withhold your feelings on my account."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Star! You're in love with Clear Sky; it's written all over your face!"

"Well, I. . . ." I knew I was in love. . . I'd known for some time, somehow. I don't know how to describe it, but I knew Clear Sky was the one that could give me the life I wanted. Maybe he would be the head stallion, if we were able to escape, and Graceful Maiden and I would be the first members of his band.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" Graceful Maiden said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that he loves you, too."

"What? He does?"

"Well, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but yes. He's felt this way ever since your arrival at the village."

"Really?" I asked in elation, as the butterflies in my stomach fluttered faster.

"Um-hm," she nodded.

No wonder he'd paid so much attention to me! Sure, he'd nuzzled me and all that, but he'd been that way with all of the females in the village. But, to think that he favored me!

The train rumbled over a large span that stretched across a canyon. It was nighttime now, and the air was cold. I sidled closer to Graceful Maiden, accidently waking her up.

"I'm sorry, Graceful Maiden."

"No apologies are needed. I wasn't sleeping anyway," she replied.

"Yes, but I was," Clear Sky yawned.

There was a pause, and then we heard Raging Fire whinny at something. We looked up to see what was wrong. He must have been reminiscing about his home. His face was set in sadness for a few moments, then the fire returned to his eyes, and he smiled at us for the first time since he was put into this car. He came over and greeted us.

"We'll get out of here. . . you'll see."

I think I spoke for all three of us when I said, "I hope you're right, Raging Fire."

We'd finally figured out what the humans wanted with us.

"Strap the mares here, Joe."

Graceful Maiden and I were chained ext to each other, Raging Fire and Clear Sky in front of us. We were being used as draft horses, along with–at least–one hundred other horses. We all had to drag a new engine over a steep incline, so as to connect two portions of the railway. I'm not sure why, but it was imperative that the job be finished soon.

A man far ahead of us called down to his partners, "Ready to go!"

"Yah!" said one of the many being spoken to, lashing out with his rope so it cracked; and we, as one, threw our weight into our harnesses.

Slowly, painstakingly, we dragged the engine up the slope.

We kept going, never stopping, even in the moon-less nights. Finally, the morning rays touched the tops of the trees, and the foremost horses began to descend the slope. Raging Fire suddenly looked back at the engine in a panic. I didn't think much of it until he halted, rearing wildly. All of the horses whinnied In confusion. Raging Fire then fell to the side with a thud. Graceful Maiden and I didn't know what to make of it.

The farrier ran forward and lifted his eye open, shaking his head. "Get the mules up here!"

"What!?" I thought, my mouth agape.

Another man came forward to remove the harness. The stallion's head slipped free from the collar and plopped onto the ground. I grimaced hoping he wasn't dead, and Graceful Maiden jumped.

Chains were hooked onto his hind legs, and he was unceremoniously dragged away. Clear Sky turned to us in shock and fear.

"What now?

"We'll escape, Clear Sky," I said. "It may just take longer, that's all."

"We'll just be killed!" Graceful Maiden cried.

"Don't say such things! We'll be fine!"

The horses on our right reared and whinnied for some reason, and the ones in our column lifted their heads. Why?

"What is it?" I asked.

"I don't know. Clear Sky?"

"I don't know, either," said he.

At that moment, Raging Fire leapt over the chain that spanned between the wooden base the train rested upon, and the pair of horses at the end of the column. He glared at the men that began to close in on him, and we added our calls to the others'. He kicked the connector twice, and it broke on the third. The chains on the horses' harnesses fell away as they ran, and then I felt my hooves sliding on the ground. The engine was rotating to the side and taking us with it! I knew that fighting was useless, but I would have been pulled over otherwise. I managed to just glance at Raging Fire before the tension on the chain was released. Two horses passed me, and I followed automatically.

Because we were at the back of our column, we did not realize that there were a lot of men at the bottom of the slope. The horses that had been freed before us were struggling with the workers. I was not going to be recaptured! I was going to start a new life with my friends away from all of this! I let myself fly, my hooves clattering on the compact earth, men dropping their tools to get out of my way. Clear Sky and Graceful Maiden called to me multiple times, and I replied, "Keep up, and don't stop! We can get to the woods and the open country!"

I knew they were beginning to tire. It was from long periods of no serious exercise. My pace was of no help, either, but they had the ability to gallop faster. They just needed to find the strength to do so. . . they needed to draw on the mustang within them.

And they did. I heard their hoof-beats close behind me, and I whinnied triumphantly.

Ahead of us was a trail that cut through the trees. I looked back at them and whinnied a warning to them–we would have to turn very sharply to get onto the trail. They nodded to me in understanding. I threw my weight onto my hind legs to slow myself down, then twisted to my right and galloped down the trail. Clear Sky copied me with no trouble, but Graceful Maiden was cornered by several workers after recovering from a near stumble. Clear Sky and I stopped, turned around, and went to help. . . until she held us back.

"Go on without me!" she called.

"We can't just leave you here!" I replied.

"I'll be fine! You two get out of here!"

"No! Not until we rescue you!"

"Hey! There are two horses over there! Take them!" a tall, sturdy, and heavily beared man shouted. Another pulled out his pistol and aimed at us. Graceful Maiden struck him in the back of the head as she reared.

"Go! Run!" Clear Sky nodded and nudged me forward. I looked back through the trees and saw her fighting with everything she had. I think she managed to break free, but I can't be sure.


	8. Mustangs Once Again

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 8–Mustangs Once Again**

The air in the meadow was cold and frigid, and clouds formed in front of our faces as we tried to catch our breath. Sweat dripped from our necks and ran down our legs. The cold air blew across us, and I know I was shivering.

"We. . . have to go. . . back," I said between breaths.

"No, it's too dangerous. We should keep moving." (How as it that he could speak normally after a run like that?)

"We can't keep going! We have to find Graceful Maiden!"

"We'll only bring her unwanted attention, Star! The mean know which way we went, as well. They'll wait and search for us!"

"She's our friend, Clear Sky. What friends would we be if we did nothing?"

"Stop being so heroic, Star! She wouldn't have sent us away if she knew she would be overwhelmed!"

I wanted to say more, I really did, but I could not think of anything to say. I snorted in frustration and moved off. He was right, I know, but what made logical sense made no sense to me in my heart.

It was evening when we reached a deep brook in the middle of the forest. We stopped to drink the cool water, and then tried to remove the harnesses. The heavy rings on our shoulders could not be removed until the straps on our bodies were loosened. Lucky for us, the buckles for these straps were on our sides and hips, and were able to be broken against three branches. After that, the rings were easy to dispose of.

"Starry Night," said he, "what do we do now?"

"We have to get out of the trees. It won't take them long to find us. That said, let's go."

Trees gave way to fields, and fields to grasslands. The moon was faint in the darkening sky, and the air became colder than it was before. Winter was not far away. If we didn't make good time, we would be bogged down by deep snow.

(Some time later, in the middle of winter.)

Well, we were bogged down, all right. Sure, we were away from the train project, but we had not gone as far as I would've liked. This winter was the worst winter I've seen in my life so far. The deer were eating the bark from the trees before we could feast upon it, and there was no grass under the snow. I was beginning to think we would have to eat lichen and pine leaves.

We didn't see many horse herds, but we did picked up a filly (she wasn't quite a mare). She had a light, slate colored coat, a dark grey mane, and blue eyes. She'd been cast from her herd, as she was of breeding age, and had been sheltering herself under some bare oak trees. I named her "Sturdy Oak", and allowed her to accompany us. (I say "allow" because, I am the lead mare. Like any of my contemporaries, I have some authority over which horses join the herd or not. I also have to keep the peace and make sure everyone knows his or her place within the herd. I've known some mares to be utterly cruel, and leave horses like Sturdy Oak to the elements. . . I've promised myself never to be like them.) She was quiet and polite, and adopted me as her "mother". Her banishment must have been a short time before meeting us.

Rolling Thunder and her younger half-brother Lightning came. The former, a filly the same age as Sturdy Oak, was a beautiful grey paint; the colt was a bright sorrel, with a white stripe on his face and one sock on his left foreleg. Rolling Thunder also saw me as a second mother, and Lightning did the same for all of us–Clear Sky, Sturdy Oak, and myself.

I think Clear Sky was able to completely tap into his mustang ancestry after the herd began to grow. He'd warded off a rather large bachelor stallion a day or three ago, without any major injuries. I couldn't have been more proud of him. He had been so afraid of making a terrible mistake, of endangering us, and of disappointing us. . . to see him as strong as he is now warms my heart.

"Aunt Star?" Lightning said to me.

"Yes?" I replied kindly.

"What are those?" he asked, gesturing toward three large creatures drinking from the stream. They were bulky, furry, and deep brown in color. I could see their curved horns from here.

"Those are buffalo, child. They're harmless when one respects them."

"When are they not harmless?"

"'When their herd is threatened, just like horses."

"Are they mean to their own herd-mates?"

"Perhaps they are, to a degree. I don't really know for sure. Why do you ask?"

"The stallion that led our herd was very mean to us, and made us walk a long time, even when it was really hot or cold. He did not listen to the lead mare, either."

His eerily serene tone made a chill run along my spine. "Then, how did your sister bring you with her when she left? Didn't he notice?"

"I don't know. Our mother told us to sneak away one night, and told us not to worry about being followed."

"How old is Rolling Thunder?"

"A little more than two years old. She'll be three in the spring," he responded proudly.

"So, she would have been sent away anyway," I thought to myself. I'd heard about young horses leaving of their own accord before. Given that, the stallion probably hadn't thought much of it. "Had you two been on your own long before you met us?"

"No, not really. Rolling Thunder did have to fight a wolf one time, though. It didn't hurt her too badly."

I shook my head in disbelief. . . . The poor foal had seen so much hardship, and was able to speak of it so offhandedly.

"What is it, Aunt Star?" he asked me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I licked his face and nuzzled him impulsively, heartbroken that he had been through all of this. I was,, however, thankful that he had already been weaned by now. But, why hadn't their mother come with them? Was she the stallion's favorite–or one of his favorite–mares, and could not afford to draw attention to her children?

"Do not worry yourself, Lightning. Clear Sky has no malicious bone in his body, and will protect you and your sister."

"At least. . . until I'm older."

"Only when you're older, and I'm sure no harm will come to you." I looked up at Clear Sky, who was grooming Sturdy Oak's back, and sighed. He wouldn't harm the colt. . . he was better than that.

"He's very nice," Lightning said more cheerfully.

"Yes, he is, little one." I looked around, nothing the sun's low position in the sky and the buffalo loitering near the river. They seemed placid enough. "Gather the others, Lightning. We're leaving."

"All right!" He bounded through the deep snow, beaming as he told the band of my decision. I'd given him that task a short time ago, and he loved the responsibility that came with it.

I started forward and touched muzzles with Sturdy Oak, Rolling Thunder, and Clear Sky. Then I took my place in front of them.

We crossed the river in one single-file line, eliciting a few grunts and snorts from the buffalo, and continued onward. The forest was growing thin, and we could see the plains miles ahead of us. We had a water source, a reasonable amount of food (deer or no deer), and shelter. We'd be able to wait for warmer weather and new grass here, and then move onto the plains.

'Too bad another, larger band had thought the same thing.


	9. Winter Brawl

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 9–Winter Brawl**

"Oh no," I muttered to myself.

The band's stallion, a jet black, tall, and well built animal, charged forward. His neck was arched boldly, and his outline was proudly elevated. He knew there was a stallion with us.

"Show yourself, stallion!" he bellowed. Clear Sky answered the challenge, knowing he was the was the weaker horse. Sturdy Oak and Rolling Thunder stood close to each other, and Lightning was behind me. I could feel him trembling against my hind legs.

"Please," Clear Sky said evenly, "we do not mean your band any harm. We are merely passing through."

"'To where? The empty, snow-covered plains? No. . . you wish to take over this band for yourself! You will not do so, not in my territory!"

"That is not what I desire! I am content with the horses I have with me!"

"Prepare yourself!" He gathered himself and charged toward Clear Sky.

Clear Sky stood still for a moment, and I whinnied for him to move. He looked back at us before he dodged the stallion's attack. They circled each other, ears flattened and teeth bared.

"What's the matter, stallion?" Clear Sky said nothing to him. "Don't you have any fight in you? Don't you care about your mares?"

Clear Sky roared into life and darted forward, rising onto his hind legs and striking with his fore-hooves. The black stallion backed away from him, bleeding from a deep cut in his neck.

"I think the brown mare will produce strong foals for me," he sneered.

"Be quiet!" Clear Sky cried.

They met in the middle and lashed out at eat other with their forelegs, cutting and bruising their flesh. They danced around in a tight circle, nipping at each other's quarters and bucking. Clear Sky took a hit to the jaw and reeled away. The stallion used this opportunity to push him over into the snow. Then he reared, glaring directly at him. He was going to crush his head in!?

"He's mad!" I exclaimed.

"Enough of this!" said an unfamiliar voice. I looked beyond the two stallions, and saw an elegant mare coming out from somewhere in the band. She was a bright golden palomino, with a snowy white mane and tail. For whatever reason, I thought of the moonbeams that filtered through the trees at night.

"What is this?!" Are you taking sides now?!"

"Yes, I am. He's said that he did not wish to take our herd, and yet you nearly beat him to death! Let his band pass us."

"Are you daft?! There is nothing but frozen ground beyond this forest!"

"Then allow them to go back from where they came." She put herself between the stallion and Clear Sky, the latter regaining his footing in the snow and looking from us to them."

"Defending our band is one thing, but killing another horse is completely different. That's cruelty."

"Who are you to be telling me what to do?! You aren't the lead mare!"

"WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE!? YOU DON'T LISTEN TO THE ONE WE HAVE!"

He jumped in surprise, then lowered his voice. "If that's the way you feel, leave with them," he growled.

"What took you so long to say that!? I'd rather have the foal I carry be born into a fair and friendly band than into a tyranny!"

Her own band cringed at her words, waiting for their stallion to strike her and leave her for dead, but he did nothing. I–nor Sturdy Oak or Rolling Thunder–had not seen this in our lives! Mares would sometimes leave during foaling season (for that is the only time stallions are not suspicious of their absence. . .at first), but never had we seen a mare openly say that she wanted to leave. And she was a grown, pregnant, mare, and could be the mother of his foal!

I hadn't been paying attention after his comment, and thus hadn't realized that two horses had come to beg the mare not to leave, not until I heard their sorrowful calls to her as she followed Clear Sky over to us.

"Are you all right?" I asked. Okay, I knew he wasn't completely all right, but I felt I had to ask.

"Relatively, yes," he responded, rubbing his head against Sturdy Oak's, Rolling Thunder's, and my own one by one. Lightning peaked at the newcomer from behind me, still trembling slightly.

"Which one of you is the lead mare?" said she.

"I am," I said. "There's no need for formalities after what you've done for us." I turned around and headed back for the river. Lightning stayed very close by me, the palomino on my other side.

"Are winters long here?" I asked.

"No. In fact, this is as bad as it gets. The grass will show itself soon."

"That's good. The supply of bark is low, at best."

"Your band isn't large at all, though."

"Deer herds are, however, and they are probably feasting as we speak."

"Mm. . . yes, the deer are abundant this year. There's probably some food left, either way. It depends on where one looks."

"You know the land better than we do. . . "

"I know a place where we can go, don't worry." She shook the water from her mane and coat, swishing her tail back and forth briefly, and noticed Lightning for the first time.

"Well now, is this your foal?" she asked, lowering her head to his level.

"No, no. He is Rolling Thunder's younger brother."

"Dear, I think you need rest! Rolling thunder does not begat horses!"

"'Rolling Thunder' is the name of the paint filly behind you, and this colt is named Lightning. They grey filly is Sturdy Oak, the stallion is Clear Sky, and I am Starry Night."

". . . . I see."

Clear Sky happily told her what he'd told me mor than a year ago, and she tossed her head constantly.

"I think 'Moonbeam' suits you."

"'Moonbeam'? Why?"

"Your mane and tail reminded me of the light that comes through the trees at night. Therefore, 'Moonbeam' is very appealing, don't you think?"

"I like it!" Lightning chimed in. We all chuckled to ourselves, and he left my side to stand with Rolling Thunder.

"It's very becoming," Clear Sky added.

"It's decided! 'Moonbeam' it is!" Sturdy Oak exclaimed.


	10. The Herd

**Part 1: Bright Star of the West**

**Chapter 10–The Herd**

(Early spring)

I was grazing next to Clear Sky one morning, enjoying his company and the new grass, swishing my tail to send flies on their way. Sturdy Oak and Rolling Thunder were standing with Moonbeam, whose sides were swollen from her foal. I had the sense that she would give birth very soon.

"I'm supposed to have foals with all of the available females, right?"

I looked up with a grass-blade hanging from my mouth. "Where did this question come from?"

"I was just wondering. Only one or two pairs mated in the village."

"Oh, I see. Well, you should be focusing on finding more females. With Moonbeam here, you have two adult females. Rolling Thunder and Sturdy Oak will be ready in a year or two, and Moonbeam's foal–provided that it's a filly–after that. Then Moonbeam herself will be ready again."

"That's a lot, though."

"Yes, but what happens when the four of us can no longer have foals? You can't mate with your own daughters, can you?"

"Oh, no. . . you're right."

"Exactly, and that's why that black stallion was so brutal. Not only does his large band represent his status, it is his breeding stock he's protecting."

"Oh."

"At this point, go with your instinct."

"Mm," he offered in agreement.

Moonbeam walked past and nudged my shoulder. I nickered encouragingly and watched her leave.

"Where is she going?"

"She's going to give birth, Clear Sky. Mares go off on their own a little ways when this happens." I could just see her as she lay down in the grass. The others edged closer to keep an eye out for danger. "Maybe the other horses in the village were kept away from the mare when she was due," I thought.

"Have you had a foal before, Star?" he asked quietly.

"'Beg pardon?" said I.

"Have you had a foal?"

I looked away from him. "Yes, but it did not live. . . it was dead at birth."

He touched my muzzle apologetically. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't worry, I'm all right. It's common among new mothers. Why did you want to know?"

"Well, I was going to ask if. . . well, if I. . . ." His voice trailed off as my heart pounded in my ears, my skin tingling, and my body trembling with excitement. I couldn't contain myself!

"Are you asking if I want to be your first mate in the herd?"

"Well. . . yes. . .yes I am."

"I'd love to!" I exclaimed, allowing my hooves to dance across the ground. He whinnied in relief and sidle swiftly, mimicking me. Then we stopped, looked at each other, and linked necks, taking in each other's scents, and rubbing heads. Words were not needed to describe this moment.

I glanced at Sturdy Oak and the others, and they were still watching over Moonbeam. They all had one ear turned toward us and smiled on their faces. Had they heard us?

It didn't matter, for our focus returned to the palomino a few yards away. During a quiet moment, I padded over to check on her. She assured me that she was all right, and I took my leave. I stopped a small distance ahead from the band, so I could see her more easily. They moved forward and stood with me.

The morning wore on, and we sensed nothing amiss. Moonbeam's labor continued smoothly, and we finally heard her shallow breaths from our position. We picked up our heads in anticipation, our ears stiffly swiveling to and fro. Now that the delivery was nearly over, she was at her most vulnerable state.

A small shriek of pain came from the mare, and then nothing. She lay there, catching her breath, making no movement.

Rolling Thunder sidles closer to me. "Is it over?"

"I think so. Give it some time." She nodded. "Please let the foal live," I thought.

She shifted onto her side and looked behind herself, smiling warmly. The foal had lived!

"Can you see it?" Rolling Thunder asked aloud.

Lighting leaned forward, straining to spot the foal. "I see it! It's all brown."

Clear Sky nuzzled my shoulder, and carefully walked forward. We followed him, forcing ourselves not to rush to Moonbeam's side. She was licking the foal dry when we arrived.

"I'm naming her 'Nava'," she said without looking at us.

"She's beautiful, Moonbeam," said I.

"Congratulations," Sturdy Oak added.

"She has your eyes," Rolling Thunder added further.

Nava gazed up at up curiously. I nickered deep in my throat as a greeting, and received a high-pitched whinny from her.

We stood around them, grazing, while still giving them their space. Our band was growing, and as Clear Sky grew more comfortable with himself, we would be able to win more battles and gain the trust of many more mares. We, his "inner circle", would help him in any way we could. . . which goes double for me.

* * *

_The End (of part one)_

_To be continued in "Part 2: Clear Sky", and concluded in "Part 4: Separated"_

_(A/N: Did ya' like it?)_

_Characters_

_* (Indicates a character who not named in the movie, and is therefore not my own; he/she does appear more than once in the stories.)_

_** (Indicates my original character/s; he/she does appear more than once in the stories.)_

_Lakota Life Part 1: Bright Star of the West_

_**Calm Waters and **Brook–Star's older sister and niece, respectively. The former is chestnut with a darker mane, tail, and legs; the latter is palomino._

_*Sierra and *Rain–Mother and daughter, we meet the former at the end of Kathleen Duey's book, Bonita, and the letter at the end of Sierra (also by Kathleen Duey). Sierra is sorrel with white splotches on her face, body, and legs; (we all know what Rain looks like)._

_*Storm–Sierra's mate and Rain's father. We meet him in Sierra. He is a black-and-white pinto._

_**Dusk and **Soaring Eagle–Mother and son, the former is the mount of **Chief Loud Fox, and the latter is the mount of one of the village's warriors. Dusk is a black-and-white paint, and Soaring Eagle is a brown-and-white pinto._

_*Bright Star of the West–The sorrel mare we see when Spirit escapes from the fort. She has yellow dots on her left shoulder, two feathers in her mane, and is ridden by *Swift Deer (the man wearing a loincloth in the aforementioned scene). She is later re-named Starry Night by Clear Sky._

_*Graceful Maiden–The grey mare-I'm assuming it's a mare-we see when Spirit leaves the fort. She has three black horseshoes on her left shoulder, and is ridden by *Silent Wind (the man wearing a feather in his hair and long deerskin pants in the aforementioned scene)._

_*Clear Sky–The grey stallion we see when Spirit and Rain tour the village. He wears blue paint around his right eye and a feather in his mane, and is ridden by **Half Moon._

_**Moonbeam and **Nava–Members of Star's and Clear Sky's herd, Moonbeam left her stallion during the winter in favor of our heroes' band, and gave birth to her daughter that spring. The former is palomino, and the latter is brown._

_**Sturdy Oak–A member of Star's and Clear Sky's herd, she was found sheltered under oak trees after being expelled from her herd. She is light grey._

_**Rolling Thunder and **Lightning–Members of Star's and Clear Sky's herd, they left after their mother urged them to leave their overbearing stallion. The former is a grey paint, and the latter is sorrel with a white stripe and sock on his left leg._


End file.
